


Gayrea 51

by godcannotdefeatfanfic



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alien!Danny, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Danny Phantom AU, I have so much planned and I'm gonna fuck all of it up, I'm also gonna post this on tumblr, I'm bad at tags, I'm trying to improve my writing, M/M, Minor Character Death, NaNoWriMo 2019, Tag As I Go, This is an attempt at a slowburn, V is based off my friend, Val and Dani are more of a sideplot, area 51 AU, because other things are gonna happen but im not sure how, im sad and gay, ok im gonna stop now, pls review, read this pleaseeeeeeeeee, the title is by my other friend, they all have trauma, this thing is gonna end up being a monster of a fic, walter is a horrible parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godcannotdefeatfanfic/pseuds/godcannotdefeatfanfic
Summary: Wes Weston had nothing to live for. Ever since his Mom had gone out for cigarettes on his 6th birthday and never come back his life had been a constant downward spiral. Maybe that was why he was in the middle of the Nevada desert, preparing to attempt to rush a highly armed government facility with a million other suicidal Millenials.





	1. “I was gonna make us team jackets, but that’s so cliche.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look at these idiots. These absolute fools. Complete dumbasses. Anyway, I'm JJ and this is a thing. Please review if you can so I actually make time to write this or something. Shreck out my Tungle (@tourettesservicedog) or just send me weird shit through anon. Have fun, kiddos.

September 20th, 10:30 am  
Area 51

Wes Weston had nothing to live for. Ever since his Mom had gone out for cigarettes on his 6th birthday and never come back his life had been a constant downward spiral. Maybe that was why he was in the middle of the Nevada desert, preparing to attempt to rush a highly armed government facility with a million other suicidal Millenials. 

He fanned his face with his hand. It was over 86 degrees and he was practically melting in his Casper High spirit T-Shirt and blue jeans. He contemplated getting into his pickup truck and blasting the a/c but considering he only had a quarter tank of gas left, and it was a good 20 miles to the nearest gas station, he decided against it. Instead, he got onto his phone and texted his friends for the third time that morning. 

Basketball-Boi: where r yall? its hot.

Phurry: we’re just driving in!! Do u see us?

Basketball-Boi: uhhh whats ur car look like

Phurry: the silver one

Basketball: V there are like a million silver ones what kind of car

Phurry: uhh Val says its called a subaru we’re right by a black car

Red_Huntress: They’re standing on the roof and waving. Can you see us now?

Wes looked up from his phone to see a person, about his age, standing on the roof of a silver Subaru, wearing a black band t-shirt and neon green booty shorts. Their long blond ponytail swished around their face as they jumped up and down excitedly. A girl stepped out of the car and began scolding her friend. She was wearing a matching red pair of shorts, there was black lettering on her backside that he couldn’t quite make out. He began waving back, which only excited the blond more. They lept over the brown-skinned girl and bolted towards Wes.

“Ready to fuck some aliens, Basketball-Boi?” They pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I was born ready!” He laughed, “How are you, V?”

“Pretty gay, thanks for asking.”

Wes opened his mouth to speak but V cut him off with an excited shout.

“Oh! That reminds me!” They slipped their arms out of their backpack straps and dug through the mint green bag for a minute before pulling a pair of hot pink shorts, “I wanted us all to match! Made ‘em myself!”

They flipped the shorts around to reveal ‘100% Nasty’ embroidered onto the ass in black. They then turned around to show off their own message, that read ‘Trash Man’.

“I made one for Val too, c’mon, we have to wear them!!”

Wes grabbed the shorts and held them to his hips. “Is this what you needed my measurements for?”

They nodded enthusiastically, “I was gonna make us team jackets, but that’s so cliche.”

“Huh, I mean, don’t get me wrong, these are… great, but are you sure pink is my color?”

V rolled their eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Wes! Just put them on, you’ll see.”

Wes sighed and walked behind his red truck for some privacy, not that there was much of that, the field was crowded with cars. He pulled down his blue jeans, thankful for the breeze on his legs, and pulled on the shorts. They were a perfect fit, clinging to his waist, and resting on his barely existent hips. The feeling of showing so much skin was odd to him, he’d never worn anything that short in public, but the look on V’s face made it all worth it to him. They didn’t laugh like he’d been expecting them to, instead clapping their hands and going on about how relieved they were that the shorts actually fit. He did a quick turn for them, and they nodded in satisfaction.

“I think it’s about time we caught up to Val, did y’all remember to bring soda?”

“Only the finest Mountain Dew the 7/11 could provide, M’lady,” V grinned. 

“Than shall we be going, M’lord?” Wes held out his arm.

“Indubitably.” V linked their arm through his and they wandered through the crowd, searching for Valerie’s silver Subaru. 

“Wes! V! Over here!” Val called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a Mountain Dew at her friends. The two of them waved back and jogged toward her. 

“Hey Val, long time no see,” Wes grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed ya, Weston,” Val reached up to ruffle his hair, but Wes dodged, pulling her into a headlock instead. 

“Missed ya too, Grey,” He gave her a noogie and released her, leaving her free to jump onto him and boost herself high enough to get revenge.

“Aww, adorable! Old lovebirds rekindling an old flame?” V fluttered their eyelashes at their friends, who immediately recoiled.

“Ew, no! Wes? If I had to pick a guy, maybe. And that’s a hard maybe. I’m too gay for this.” Valerie picked up her can from the hood of her car and took a swig.

“Yeah! She’s like my little sister!”

“Hey, I’m older than you!”

“By like two weeks!”

V broke into laughter, “Cool it lovebirds, I’m only joking.”

Val and Wes rolled their eyes at V, who was now on the ground, rolling with laughter. 

“Permission to pour some soda out onto our hilarious friend’s head?” Val asked teasingly.

“Permission granted! Fire at will!” Wes saluted. Val tipped her can enough to sprinkle V with the sticky green drink. They got to their feet, still laughing, and lunged for Val’s can. They knocked it backward, spilling soda all over Val’s shirt.

“EEK,” She squealed, “You’ll pay for this, Trash Man, If it’s the last thing I do!” 

She tried to push the can towards V, but they still had a grip on her arm. They tugged the can back and forth for a few seconds before it crumpled under the pressure.

“Shit!” Val swore, letting go of the can and cradling her palm. “I think I cut myself.”

V dropped the can, game of tag forgotten, and crowded next to their friend. Wes joined their huddle. 

“I think I have a first aid kit in my truck. How bad is it?” He asked.

Val opened her hand to reveal a small, but deep wound on the side of her palm.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, if I hadn’t-” V began.

“Naw, it was as much my fault as yours. Anyway, we were having fun, and it’s really just a scratch. Keep focused on those Aliens, Private!” Val reassured them.

“Aye aye, Captain!”

Wes walked back to his truck, ignoring the stares of passerby. He grabbed his first aid kid (thank god for boy scouts) and walked back to Val’s car.

“So,” Wes ripped open a disinfecting wipe with his teeth and got to work cleaning her hand of blood. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s doing-” She drew in a sharp breath as he dabbed along the wound with a clean wipe. “Fine. The new job’s working out great, he’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Wes nodded and began wrapping her hand in gauze, “I’m glad. He wasn’t himself when y’all left.”

“It really all did work out for the better, didn’t it,” V smiled and handed Wes a length of medical tape. “Oh! I forgot! Val, show Wes what your ass says!”

She groaned, “Do I have to?”

V scowled, “Of course you have to, it was your idea!”

“I was just joking!”

“Tsk tsk, I think you’ve known me long enough to know that when it comes to cursed content, there are no jokes.”

“C’mon Val, it can’t be worse than ‘100% Nasty’,” Wes smirked.

V gasped dramatically and feigned offense, “You’ve wounded me! I work so hard, and for what, ungrateful friends?”

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy I’ll show him my ass. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She winked at him before turning to show her backside. Black embroidery spelled out ‘Booty Hunter’.

Wes burst out laughing, which quickly turned to hysteric noises only vaguely resembling laughter, squeals, and snorts with shrieking giggles between them. V and Val couldn’t help but join in. The second one of them stopped laughing someone would whisper Booty Hunter and it’d start all over again. 

“Okay, okay,” Wes gulped in air, “We- hic -should calm down now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Val wiped a tear from her eye, “I am the Queen of Calm.”

V got to their feet and dusted themself off. “Totally calm. Calmer than a… something calm.”

“When does the raid start?” Wes pulled out his phone and checked the time. 12:00.

“Around, 12:30ish, we have time.” V waved their hand.

“I dunno, it’s already 12, maybe we should start getting ready.”

“What do you mean it’s already-” V snatched the phone from his hand, “Huh. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

“Wait, get ready for what exactly? I mean, we’re here, we’ve got our shorts on, there’s enough Mountain Dew in my car to drown an elephant, what else is there to get ready?” Val questioned.

“Uhhh, I dunno, stretch?” Wes shrugged, “It just feels like we’re forgetting something. What exactly is the plan for this whole thing anyway? Are there gonna be waves? Do we all go at once? This is a pretty poorly organized event.”

Val shrugged, clearly unphased by the lack of organization, “We’ll just go when everyone else starts running. I’m sure the start of gunfire will tell us when.”

“Look, if it’s making you so worried, we can stretch before. I’m sure everything will be fine. Plus, we all get alien Girlfriends, so it’s a win-win!” V put their hand on his arm. Wes smiled thankfully down at them.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Y’all must think I’m being a nitpick-”

“Not at all! You’re probably right, after all, it must be at least a mile to the base from here, and we can’t let cramps keep us from sweet sweet alien romance.” Val propped her leg up on the hood of her car and pressed her head to her knee, “Plus that’ll give us an advantage over the Kyles.”

V nodded and fell into a lunge, “We’ve been training since July for this, can’t let it get away now because we forgot to stretch.”

Wes bent over and touched his toes, “Thanks y’all, you’re really the best friends I could ask for.” 

The screech of a megaphone rang out through the valley. A voice came through the static, “RAIDERS! GET INTO POSITION, WE'RE STORMING THE GATES IN EXACTLY 10 MINUTES!” 

A cheer broke through the crowd as people began chugging what was left of their sodas and migrating towards the front lines. 

“Well, this is it I guess. If I don’t make it out of the raid, put this on my tombstone.” Wes gestured downward, where he was holding his hand in a circle. 

“Dammit!” Valerie chuckled as Wes gave her a playful punch in the arm. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” V shouted and sprinted forwards as Wes moved towards them.

“ON YOUR MARKS!”

“Wanna bet on that?” Wes shouted back, weaving through the crowd to catch up with them.

“GET SET!”

V pushed forward, using their small frame to their advantage, easily losing the taller one in the crowd.

“RAID!”

The mob roared, then began thundering forward, but the deafening sounds of the people were nothing compared to what followed. Thousands of guns began firing at once, hitting everyone and everything in the vicinity. Wes watched with horror as the first wave of people were mowed down right before his eyes. A flash of neon green caught his eye through the carnage. He ran towards his friend, who was standing, paralyzed, next to a few other survivors. He shouted their name, and just as they turned their head another hailstorm of bullets rained down. The first one embedded itself right into V’s chest, right above their heart. Wes sprinted to catch his injured companion, but by the time he got there the life was already draining from their eyes.

“V! V, can you hear me? Don’t go into the light, hold on, ok? You’ve got this, V, answer me!”

He pressed his head to their chest, a weak heartbeat answered him. “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh, you’re okay.” 

Something wet dripped down his face, and he realized he was crying.

“...Wes,” V rasped out, then began violently coughing up blood. Little flecks of red peppered Wes’ face like freckles. “Fuck an alien for me, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Their body went limp in his arms. 

“V? V! V, wake up, please, that can’t be it, please V, you’re only 17, please!” He shook their corpse, but to no avail. V was gone. He closed his eyes and let out a shuttering breath before standing up, still clutching their body in his arms. 

“SECOND WAVE! ON YOUR MARKS!” The megaphone blared to life.

The crowd let out another, less confident cheer. After seeing all the carnage most of the raiders were less enthusiastic to ‘see them aliens’. But this time Wes had made up his mind. He was going to make it into that Government facility, and he was gonna burn that motherfucker to the ground.

“GET SET!”

He laid his friend on the ground and pressed a kiss to their forehead. If it wasn’t for the massive amount of blood they could’ve been sleeping.

“GO!”

Wes screamed with all the anger he had in him and charged forward. Bullets rained down near him, but this time there were less of them. This time he had a chance. He saw the gate coming closer. He was only 50 feet away, he could make it! He hopped over the fence, ignoring the blaring of sirens, and kept running. He pushed his way into the building, where, surprisingly, there was no security. It looked like they had invested all their soldiers into protecting the outside of the base. His adrenaline rush began to slow down. He dragged his feet down the linoleum hallway, looking at his bloodsoaked hands. 

“What the fuck just happened?” He whispered to himself, still shellshocked. A flicker of light caught his eye. Grateful for a distraction, he turned his attention to what looked like a futuristic control panel. The buttons were labeled in some sort of code, their luminescent surfaces grinning up at him.

“Looking for me, Short-Shorts?” A calm voice echoed through the hall. Wes whipped around, ready for a fight.

“Why so on edge, Ginger? Surely I’m not that intimidating.” It purred.

“Who are you?!” Wes shouted. He winced at the echo. Did he really sound that unhinged?

“On your left.” 

He turned and found himself face to face with the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. He looked about his age, maybe 17. His skin was tan, but had a slight blueish tint, as if he’d been without oxygen for a while. Poking from his tuft of pearly white hair was a pair of blue antenna. He had a small build, maybe 5 feet tall at best, but was floating at eye level with Wes. Speaking of his eyes, they were quite possibly the most gorgeous thing about him. He had eyes greener and glowyer (is that even a word? Either way it was true.) than toxic waste, his pupils were like a cat’s, slit down the middle. He was clothed in a baggy black prison jumpsuit. He looked almost alien. Wes realized with a start that he must be an alien. 

“Are you done staring?” The boy asked, snapping Wes out of his trance. “It won’t be long before the guards realize you’re in here, and I’d rather get out without a bullet hole.”

“I- I don’t- what are you?” Wes stammered.

“I’m Project Phantom, or Danny if you prefer. What’s your name?”

“I’m… Wes?”


	2. Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wes and Danny are terrible terrible children and Danny needs to chill (and wear pants).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any misspellings or errors or random plot holes, just... ignore them???  
Idk man I'm so fucking tired, anyway, I know this was supposed to go up last week but there was a major plot hole so I had to re-write most of this chapter. So, uh, yay for no more plot holes? Also just got like 90% of the dialogue done in one sitting and I don't talk to real people so like, call me out if I'm doing this wrong. Anyway, they're both stupid idiot bitches and I can't wait to write the angst for this story. UM. Enjoy?

“Nice to meet ya, Wes. How about you go ahead and pull that lever so I can get out of this hell-hole.” Danny gestured to the control panel Wes was admiring earlier. 

Wes’ hand drifted towards the lever, trembling ever so slightly. “Wait a minute,” He stopped and lowered his eyes at Danny, “How do I know you’re not just trying to trick me?” 

Danny groaned and pressed his face up against the glass. “You have my word as a government experiment?” He fluttered his pure white eyelashes. “What, do you need a please too?”

“... Yes.”

“What?”

“I’ll only let you out if you say please.”

“Aw c’mon, that’s so stupid-”

“Or, I could just alert the guards right now.” He glanced at the control panel again before deciding on a large red button.

Danny snorted and raised an eyebrow, “You realize you’ll be in even worse trouble than I will if you do that.”

“You think I care if I die? Ha! Do you really want to squander your one chance at escape because you didn’t want to say please?”

Danny scowled then grinned, “Damn, Wes, I’m impressed. Alright. May I please be let out?”

Wes pulled down the lever before he had a chance to hesitate. All the lights in the hallway began flashing red. An alarm blared from the intercom. Danny reached through the glass, grabbed his arm and yanked him into a wall. Oh god, was this really how he was gonna go? Beaten to death by an alien? He held his breath and waited for the impact, but it never came. He cracked open an eye and realized they were outside. Danny grinned up at him. 

“Surprise!” he exclaimed before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped against Wes’ chest. 

“Oh, god what just happened?” Wes whispered to himself, his arms instinctively catching Danny and shifting his unconscious form into a bridal carry. The alarm was still blaring, it was only a matter of time before someone realized what was happening and took him out with a well-placed shot. Without giving the situation a second thought he took off, towards the gate. As he got closer to the front of the building he realized something seemed off. The previously endless rain of bullets had stopped, the noise replaced by the triumphant shouts of the mob. The gate was ripped off its hinges as more and more people flooded into the compound, destroying everything that stood in their way with sheer force. 

It was almost beautiful, the chaos of it all. But Wes didn’t have time to admire the sight. He shifted Danny in his arms and began pushing through the mass of people, most of which made way after seeing what (or rather, who) he was carrying. He felt as though he was back in school almost, moving through the desert like pushing through droves of Freshman on his way to class. The crowd finally began to thin out, giving Wes enough space to break into a sprint. His mind was so focused on getting out of there he barely even reacted when he reached his truck, automatically unlocking the doors and settling Danny inside. His door wasn’t even shut all the way when he peeled away from his parking spot, weaving through parked cars and coolers to the main road. He barreled down the stretch of concrete, at least 20 miles over the speed limit. His only thought was to get as far away from there as possible. 

Once he reached the freeway he began to calm down. He turned on the radio and fell into a sort of lull as he drove. His mind remained on autopilot, stopping to get gas once then driving through the night. Every once in awhile a memory of bloodsoaked hands or flashing lights would try to get through but he shut them out, instead focusing on the road and the static-y pop music blaring from the radio. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked to the side, almost veering off the side of the road. He pulled into the shoulder and glared at his passenger with bloodshot eyes.

“What?” He hissed.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his sarcastic demeanor was gone, replaced with genuine worry, “When did you last sleep?”

Wes shrugged and closed his eyes to shut out the rising sun, “Does it matter?”

“Well, duh. You look like shit and I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be driving if you’re… compromised.”

“What do you know, Alien?” 

Danny rolled his eyes, “Clearly more than you, Human. Why don’t we take a break and then you can take us- Where are we going?”

Wes shrugged and dragged a hand across his face, “No fucking clue.”

Danny groaned, “Great. Out of all the people that could’ve busted me out it had to be you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He shot back. 

“It means,” Danny propped his elbows up on the center console and stared into Wes’ eyes, “That you are fucking stupid! What kind of idiot breaks into a highly guarded government facility without a fucking plan?”

Danny collapsed back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the window. The sun was just beginning to come up, sending a pale orange light across his face, emphasizing his cheekbones. It was almost enough to make Wes forget about the angry words he’d just said to him. Almost.

“Not very fucking grateful, are we?” He bit back, “ I saved your goddamn skin and I don’t even get a fucking thank you?”

“Considering you’re probably going to get us killed, no.” 

“Great. Fucking great. Well then, what’s your brilliant plan, Mr. Smartass?”

Danny turned back to Wes and shrugged. All the anger drained from his face, leaving him with a more neutral expression. “I dunno, believe it or not, I’m not exactly an expert with the outside world.” 

Wes sighed, “I suppose that makes sense… you’re right. I should get some sleep, I’m sure this whole situation will make more sense in the morning.”

“Afternoon.” Danny corrected.

“Huh?” 

“Well, it’s already morning, so if you sleep the typical 8 hours, you’ll be waking up in the afternoon.”

“Pretty bold of you to assume I have a normal sleeping schedule. See you in the morning.” Wes reclined his seat and turned on his side, facing the door.

“So that's just it? You’re leaving me, a guy you met like 3 hours ago alone in your car for an undetermined amount of time with no guarantee that I’m not gonna just drive off without you?”

“That depends. Can you drive?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Cool. Try not to die without me, see you in the morning.” Wes began fake snoring obnoxiously loud, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Danny rolled his eyes, making a mental note to get back at him for their whole exchange and looked out the window. It had been a while since he’d seen the sun, and he’d really forgotten how beautiful it was. The pictures online never really did it justice. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wes woke to a knocking on his car window. A police officer stood on the other side of the glass. A scowl painted her face, her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, but if Wes had to guess he’d say they held the same disdain. He sat up his chair and rolled down the window. 

“How can I help you, officer?” He said, anxiety twinging his voice.

“Are you aware that you’re parked illegally?” She looked him up and down, sizing him up.

“Um, well, uh-” He stuttered. 

“Actually, Ma’am, our engine shorted out,” A voice came from behind him. Wes’ eyes went wide. Not only were they parked illegally, but he was harboring an alien prisoner. They were so screwed. “Me and my friend here were on our way to a cosplay contest and got a little lost. We’re waiting on triple-A, but they’re taking a while. W- William decided to take a little nap to keep his energy up while I waited on them.”

Danny handed the Officer Wes’ phone that he had somehow managed to not only steal but unlock in the short time Wes had been asleep. She lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose and glanced at the screen. 

“Everything seems to be in order,” She nodded begrudgingly, “Do you boys need a lift?”

“No thank you, Ma’am,” Danny smiled warmly, showing off a pair glistening pair of white fangs “We’ll be fine.”

They waited for the officer to get back into her patrol car, talk to her partner, then drive off before talking again.

“What the fuck was that?” Wes glared.

“Gee, thanks for saving our asses, Danny, you’re so brave and handsome-” Danny imitated Wes in a squeaky voice.

“Yeah, sure, thanks for almost getting us killed!” 

“Oh, really, and you had a much better plan than me how?” 

“I dunno! But you didn’t have to talk to her! You should’ve hid, I’m surprised she didn’t kill us! After what happened yesterday we have to be careful, there's probably a fucking SWAT team after you!” Wes shouted.

“As far as I’m concerned, there is no ‘us’.” Danny crossed his arms, “Plus they wouldn’t kill me. I’m too valuable. Maybe you, but not me.”

“How reassuring,” Wes said dryly. 

“Now, let's get out of this godforsaken desert!” He commanded.

“It’s too fucking early for this.” Wes groaned and hit his head against the steering wheel with a soft thunk.

“Oh, no, you are NOT falling asleep on me again!” Danny scolded, “We are going to eat some food and then we’re gonna go our separate ways. Sound good to you?”

Wes nodded, slowly raising his head and starting the car. “But before we go anywhere, you’re gonna need a change of outfits, my friend.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” Danny asked.

Wes drove onto the freeway, “Other than looking like you just escaped space prison, nothing.” 

“Well I don’t see how a costume change will make all of this,” he gestured to himself, “less suspicious, but by all means, try.”

“You really have no faith in me, huh?”

“Nope,” Danny said, popping the p. 

Wes pulled into the next exit, stopping at a Shell station. The neon sign flickered, as if it was winking at them, warmly inviting whatever visitors happened to pass through the abandoned stretch of road. He climbed out of the cab of his truck and stretched, his bones cracking loudly. Danny followed suit, swinging open the passenger door and planting his bare feet on the hot pavement, then immediately yelping and retracting them, opting to instead float a few inches off the ground. 

“What the fuck?” he murmured, staring at the ground.

“Oh, right, shoes. Add that to the list.” Wes remarked, reaching into the bed of his truck and pulling out a black duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the small convince store. The glass door swung open with a cheery little jingle. Wes held open the door for Danny, placing his arm around his shoulders and gently pushing him so his feet touched the white tile floor.  
“Humans don’t float,” he whispered.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, rising onto his tip-toes to regain some of the height he’d lost, “Fine.”

Much to Danny’s annoyance, Wes kept his arm around his shoulders as he guided him effortlessly past the lone employee, who clearly wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with the rather strange pair, and into the bathroom. Once the door was locked, he unceremoniously dropped his bag to the floor. He spent a few minutes scrubbing his hands and arms clean of the blood from the previous day off, which felt almost as good as a shower. Once he had dried himself off he knelt down to go through his clothes.

“I’m kinda broke, so you’ll have to borrow some of my clothes for now,” Wes said, unzipping his bag and pulling out a pair of wrinkled jeans for himself, pulling them over his shorts as he continued talking. “Though, baggy clothes might work better, considering the whole blue skin thing.”

He dug through the bag for a few seconds, then handed Danny a Black hoodie, blue jeans, and a pair of well-worn flipflops. 

“I’m gonna give you some privacy, open the door when you’re done, okay?”

“Huh? What, why?” Danny asked as Wes reached for the door handle.

He turned back toward Danny, “Because you’re changing?”

“Oh, this is a cultural thing, got it.” Danny nodded, grinning like he knew a secret, “I was worried you didn’t want to see me naked there for a minute.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Wes slammed the door shut behind him, his face dusted with a soft pink blush. He didn’t have to wait long, not even 5 minutes had passed when the door cracked open. He walked into the bathroom, the door automatically locking behind him as it shut. 

“Need any help?” he asked, trying his best not to stare at Danny’s bare legs. Apparently the jeans hadn’t been a good fit, hopefully, he was wearing underwear.

“This is stupid.” Danny groaned from under the hood of Wes’ oversized jacket. The garment covered him like a cloak, drooping around his shoulders and falling about to his knees. The heavy black material held a fairly unpleasant smell of Cheeto dust, sweat and an excessive amount of deodorant, as if someone had worn it for a few days without washing it. His antenna were tucked behind his ears, his eyes glowed softly under the hood. Even the way he walked was distinctly non-human, he almost glided across the ground, though a bit more clumsily than he had before in a pair of much too large dollar store flip flops. “Nobody is ever gonna buy this.”

Wes adjusted the hood to cover a bit more of Danny’s face, “Oh, trust me, if they’re as ignorant as the people in my hometown, nobody’ll bat an eyelash.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And if they aren’t?”

Wes shrugged, “That whole cosplay excuse was pretty smart, we could just use that again.” He paused for a minute, “Hey, come to think of it, how’d you even learn about cosplay? Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of Super Solider?”

“I wouldn’t say Super Solider, however flattering that is,” Danny’s eyes seemed to flash a tad brighter when he rolled them, “And, even though it’s none of your business, I have an internet connection. I know things.”

“Huh. Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.” He shrugged. “So, uh, the pants didn’t fit?”

“I think this is as good as it gets. Wanna grab some breakfast?”

“Not until you put on pants.” 

Danny huffed, not in the mood to argue, he grabbed the jeans off the floor and pulled them on roughly, one leg at a time. He was definitely not wearing underwear. He held them up around his hips to stop them from falling down. 

“Ok, I can deal with this.” Wes thought out loud, digging through his bag and pulling out two long ratty shoelaces knotted together. “Alright, so if I just…”

He strung the dirty yellow chord through Danny’s belt loop, pulled it tight and tied it in a bow in front of his stomach. “Here, you can let go now.”

Danny released the faded blue denim, allowing the hoodie to cascade back down to it’s resting place right above his knees. The pants slid down to his hips, but didn’t sag any further. The pant legs ballooned over his feet, making him look vaguely like a toddler in footie pajamas. Wes squatted down and rolled the legs up to Danny’s ankles, leaving them still covering most of his feet, but not as much of a tripping hazard. 

“That's about as good as it gets,” Wes said, standing up and looking Danny up and down. “Ready for some food? Actually... come to think of it, what do you eat, anyway?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. I have pretty large canines, so maybe meat? I doubt nutrition sludge is very popular among the populace.” 

“You’d be surprised,” Wes deadpanned, “Ok, I have…” 

He dug through his pocket, depositing a five-dollar bill, two ones, and six pennies. “Oh, score! I think there’s a McDonalds around the corner, we can get whatever looks good to you, yeah?”

“Sounds fine,” Danny responded, pulling open the door to the single-stall bathroom and stepping back into the gas station convenience store. The attendant didn’t even glance up from her tabloid as the two of them walked out the door, only looking up once they’d left, catching a glimpse of Danny’s feet hovering about a half-inch over the parking lot. 

Wes slung his bag into the back of the truck, got into his car, and put his key into the ignition. 

“Shit!” He swore, “We’re almost out of gas. Shit!” 

Danny’s stomach grumbled loudly, “Can’t it wait? I think my stomach is eating itself from the inside out.”

Wes groaned, but got back out of the car, locking it behind him and taking his duffel from the bed of the trunk. He opened the passenger door for Danny and led him across the street. He didn’t bother to look both ways, a bad habit picked up from growing up in the calm neighborhoods and safe streets of Amity Park. 

Entering the McDonalds was like entering another dimension. Although the sun shone brightly outside, none filtered in through the large windows. The room was lit by yellow LED lights, the ones by the bathrooms flickering menacingly. A chill went down Wes’ spine. Something felt off about this place. Danny pranced inside, seemingly oblivious to the eerie atmosphere in the restaurant. 

“What’s that smell?” Danny asked dreamily, following his nose up to the counter. 

“Uh, food,” Wes answered, shaking his head to snap himself out of his trance. “Go ahead and order, I’m gonna go check something.”

Wes pressed the wadded up bills into Danny’s hand. Danny giggled like a toddler and began muttering to himself while studying the glowing menu above the counter. Wes followed, looking behind the counter suspiciously. Nobody was in the restaurant, the kitchen was completely empty. Actually, he walked towards one of the gaping windows and surveyed the parking lot. Nothing. The only car in sight was his red truck and what he assumed was the gas station attendant’s blue jeep. 

“Hey, Danny,” Wes said, turning around, “I don’t think-”

Danny was sitting on one of the tables in the kitchen, scarfing down a hamburger. He paused mid-bite and looked at Wes. 

“Whha?” His voice was muffled by the food, the action sent soggy morsels flying everywhere. Wes held up a finger, getting ready to tell Danny off when he decided, to hell with it. He had already broken the law once (or twice) today, what could a little food heist hurt? He vaulted over the counter and pulled another cheeseburger from where it had been abandoned. It seemed like the employees had left in a hurry, half-filled out orders sat in rows on the prep table. Some of them were still warm. Wes selected a two double cheeseburger meal and hoisted himself up on the table next to Danny, who had finished his burger and was starting on a large fry. He was eating it like it was all one thing, holding the wrapper and biting all the fries at once. 

“Have at least a little class!” Wes said, grabbing Danny’s wrist, “What kind of sociopath eats fries like that?”

“Me,” Danny answered, spraying flecks of fry all over Wes’s face, “Now hand ‘em over, I’m hungry!”

“Not until you start acting normal!” Wes snorted, plucking one of Danny’s fries from the container and chomping down on it. 

Danny made a screeching noise, not unlike an angry seagull and dove for the food. Despite only weighing somewhere in the low hundreds, Danny was crazy strong, easily pinning Wes to the floor and snatching his meal. He leaned into Wes’ face and hissed, showing off the chunks of food stuck in his teeth. He went back to sitting on the table, his legs crossed and one of his clawed hands clutching Wes’ burger. He stuck his tongue out as Wes got up, dusted himself off, and sat back down on the table, then took another bite of the fries. Wes stuck his tongue out in return and grabbed the second burger, wolfing it down in record time.

A siren shrieked in the distance, Wes flinched. “What the fuck is that?”

Danny shrugged as he ate a chicken nugget, “Who cares?”

Another bout of piercing sounds broke out, louder now.

“I dunno Danny, it sounds like it’s getting closer, I’m getting a bad feeling. Let’s go…” Wes began shoving food into a bag, resisting the urge to cover his ears with his hands.

An impossibly bright light pierced through the window, another siren began, right outside this time. Danny shoved another handful of chicken nuggets and grabbed Wes’ arm, pulling him towards the employee’s entrance. As they stepped back into the heat Danny’s form began to flicker, eventually turning entirely transparent. Wes decided not to ask questions, instead allowing the (invisible) hand to continue pulling him away from the restaurant, looping around about 20 black cars pulled in a circle around the McDonalds. His legs began to falter as he saw armed men climbing out of the cars, surrounding the building. One man began to shout into a megaphone. Wes’ blood rushed in his ears, his vision was blurring in fear. Danny might’ve been see-through, but there was no guarantee Wes would be getting out of this alive. 

“C’mon, Wes, pick it up, do you want to die?” Danny hissed, yanking Wes’ wrist, forcing him to take another step. 

“He’s not in there!” A voice sounded, “The tracker’s pointed over here!”  
Wes froze. The man was pointing straight at him. He lifted his gun. It was at that moment he knew, he was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UwU thanks for reading, please leave a comment/kudos so my brain will release the happy chemical
> 
> My tumblr is @tourettesservicedog send me weird anon asks or something.


	3. No problem, sorry for saving your life or whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is a short chapter... I'm not gonna lie, its been a weird time since I last posted and I haven't really had the motivation to write, but I'm back and I think just posting what I have will make me feel a lot better? I dunno. Anyway, make sure to review!

“You there, boy!” The guard shouted, not lowering his gun, “What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a strangled whisper. If he’d had any more grasp of the situation he might’ve thought to pull his arm down to seem less suspicious. Instead, he stood like he’d grown roots, unable to move even an inch from the spot, his arm held out to the side, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. 

“Hey…” Danny began talking but Wes’ anxiety muffled the sound. Everything seemed to hum around him in a cacophony of white noise, like a slow-motion murder to the tune of an ambient waterfall. His life began to flash around him, his first day of kindergarten, his sixth birthday, meeting Val, losing her, going to middle and high school came all at once, like a blur. Then his mind replayed the past day. Holding V in his arms as they died. Meeting Danny. The crowd, the police officer who had so readily accepted Danny’s flimsy excuse. The convenience store, the McDonalds. Then he was back in the moment, Danny was still invisible, but his voice sounded concerned. The man was still yelling for Wes’ attention, but he tuned it out, trying to focus on whatever Danny was saying. “...ok?”

He nodded on reflex, not completely sure what he was agreeing to, but he had no time to reconsider. With a jolt, he was pulled into the sky, the hand on his arm the only thing stopping him from falling almost 30 feet to the ground. He screamed and clung to Danny’s arm, probably leaving scratch marks on his skin like a cat trying to avoid water. His mood was not improved by the bullets whipping all around him, he screamed louder, thrashing his legs like he was trying to run away. 

Danny seemed unphased, he tightened his grip on Wes’ arm and performed a skillful dive through the air, landing them just behind their truck. He wrenched open the door and pushed a still screaming Wes into the passenger seat. 

Danny slid into the driver’s side, now visible and smacked Wes across the face. Wes cradled his cheek but stopped screaming.

“Keys!” Danny shouted.

“What?” Wes asked, his voice a little hoarse from screaming. 

“Give me your fucking keys, we need to go!”

Wes’ hands shook as he handed his silver keychain to Danny. “But, you don’t know how to drive?” He managed to squeak out.

Danny answered him with a glare, putting the key in the ignition and stomping on the breaks before locating the gas pedal. The car jolted into motion, going straight out of the parking lot into the desert. He steered like a madman, going full throttle onto the highway, weaving in and out of cars. It was a wonder he didn’t hit anyone. At one point he was sure Danny did hit someone or at least would’ve, the truck seemed to go straight through the other vehicle. Wes could hear sirens blaring behind them, it seemed the police were in hot pursuit. If it concerned Danny he didn’t know, he was too busy focusing on not vomiting all over the windshield. 

“Hold on!” Danny roared, his eyes flicked nervously to the fuel gauge that was almost pointed to empty, then back to the road. A determined look painted his face. 

“Danny what are you-” Wes didn’t have time to say anything, do anything, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. Danny had closed his eyes tight and somehow drove the truck into the ground. Not crashing it, just going beneath the asphalt like a dolphin into the surf. He’d closed his eyes as they went under, he was pretty sure he was screaming again. 

It was a weird, almost surreal feeling, being submerged in the ground. Cold and dark, yes, but also strangely weightless, more like flying than a freefall. Wes’ stomach did backflips in his stomach, his balance shifting as if he were on a boat in troubled waters. Then, just like that, it was over. The truck breached the surface of the road and kept going, cruising along an abandoned desert road like nothing had happened. His stomach turned, causing him to gag violently. The truck had begun slowing so he felt comfortable enough to push open the door and expel the contents of his stomach onto the cracked and fading asphalt. Danny looked on in horror.

“Um, are you okay?” He asked, his hand was frozen halfway to Wes’ back as if he was unsure if he should reach out to comfort him. The truck had completely stopped now. 

Wes heaved again then took a deep hacking breath that turned into a cough on the exhale. He spit out the rest of the bile that remained in his throat, wiped his mouth off with the back of his wrist and turned to give Danny a tight smile. His voice squeaked out an octave higher than usual, “What in the actual fuck did you just do?”

“Oh! I can turn things intangible, pretty cool, right?” He demonstrated by summoning a faint blue glow to cover his hand then sticking it straight into the dashboard. 

Wes nodded slowly, still feeling a bit nauseous, “Ok, cool, great, a little warning next time would be nice, okay?”

Danny nodded, “No problem, sorry for saving your life or whatever.”

Wes rolled his eyes, “Get over yourself.”

“Not a chance.” 

Wes took another deep breath. “Right, so, first thing’s first, how the fuck did they find us?”

Danny shrugged, “If I had to guess, I’d say they’re tracking me.”  
Wes half-heartedly muttered a curse under his breath, “Any idea how?” 

Danny’s hand absent-mindedly went to his ear, “I think I might…”


	4. "I can’t just rip your ear open with my hands."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied trauma and mentions of suicide im like major tired so i'll put a description at the end tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge fucking thanks to @phantombreadproject for helping me edit and reading this shitshow everyone say thanks Dallas!!

Wes sat for a moment, waiting for Danny to continue his sentence, but he seemed lost in thought, his fingers still rubbing over the back of his right ear. 

“Uh, Danny?” He waved his hand in front of Danny’s face. Wes had never been good at waiting, as his first-grade teacher had always been fond of reminding him. “You have an idea?”

Danny closed his eyes and nodded, “I think I do. Wes, can you do something for me?”

Danny turned towards Wes, his eyes held an intensity strong enough to cut through diamond. Wes swallowed thickly before nodding, “Uh, yeah dude? What’s up?”

“I need you to cut my ear off.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, staring at each other, one with shock and the other with a deep-seated determination. Wes broke the connection by shaking his head as if he was a wet dog. 

“What?” He asked, not entirely sure he’d heard Danny correctly the first time. 

“I need you to cut my ear off,” Danny made a slicing motion next to his head while he spoke, just to make sure the point came across. 

“What, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, the actual fuck?” 

Instead of answering Danny grabbed Wes’ hand just above the wrist and placed it onto his ear. Wes was pretty sure he had started talking again, but all coherent thought was overrun the minute he’d realized how soft Danny’s hair was. It had a plush consistency, like that of a chinchilla, thick and warmer than the Christmas spirit. He desperately wanted to move his hand and brush Danny’s obnoxiously messy bangs from his forehead. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized it was probably a bad idea to essentially pet a guy he’d met mere hours ago. He pulled his hand away and clutched it to his chest. He could feel his face heating up. Danny gave him a confused look and snapped his fingers to get Wes’ attention again.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, “It’s cool if you can’t do it, but I don’t think I have the balls to do it myself…”

“Shit, sorry Danny, I’m- can you repeat that?” Wes wrung his hands, not quite trusting himself to make eye contact.

Danny rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before continuing, “They’re tracking me. We know that. And I think I know how.”

Wes stared at him for a minute before his meaning sunk in. “So you want me to cut off your ear because that’s where you think the tracker is?”

“Exactly.” Danny nodded. 

Wes raised an eyebrow, “And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not. Didn’t you feel that bump? That’s gotta be it! I always thought it was a cyst or something.”

“Uh,” Wes faltered. “Yeah, yeah totally, yeah.” He lied, trying to convince Danny he had indeed felt said bump.

“So? Will you do it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, assumingly from nerves. 

“...Why can’t we just push the tracker out? Like, cut a slit in your ear and just,” He made a popping sound with his lips, “Yeah?”

“Oh!” He smacked his face lightly, “Duh, that’s a much better idea, thanks.”

“Yeah! No problem, no problem.” He opened up the car door and stretched. “How do you wanna do this? I don’t have a knife, so maybe a rock? Or we could go buy a knife, but I’m not sure I have enough money for that…”

Danny brought his legs up to his chest and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “I dunno…” He trailed off. 

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” He walked around the car and tried to get Danny to look at him, “What’s wrong?”

Danny gave a tight-lipped grin, “I’m fine. Just do it.”

Wes gave a concerned look, “I can’t just rip your ear open with my hands. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid. I really wanna get this over with. I think you could use a cactus spine for a needle.” He pushed himself up and drifted over to the side of the road where a large saguaro cactus sat. He grasped the base of a spike and tugged at it. His fingers slipped and the tip of the spike brushed over his fingertip, making a small cut. He stopped moving and began taking deep breaths. Green blood trailed down his finger and dripped from his palm. All he did was watch, seemingly unable to do much else. He began trembling like a leaf in the wind, tears bloomed in his eyes. Wes walked towards him with his hands outstretched, palms up, attempting to look non-threatening. 

“Hey, bud, are you okay?” 

Danny didn’t respond. Tears streamed down his face. His mouth was opened ever so slightly, but he didn’t make a sound. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Wes asked, staying perfectly still. Danny shook his head, his eyes not leaving his finger. “Okay, I’m going to stay right here then, okay? Is it cool if I keep talking?”

Danny nodded, barely moving, barely breathing.

“Okay. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Danny shrugged, still fixated on the green blood dripping down his finger.

“That’s okay, no problem.” Wes paused for a minute, trying to remember what else he had learned from the two sessions of therapy he’d attended after his mom had left. “How about we sit down, can you do that?”

Danny’s legs folded under him, he plopped onto the road, his kneecaps hit the pavement in a manner that must’ve hurt. His arms instinctively went to his sides to catch himself, breaking his concentration on his hand. Wes lowered himself next to Danny about a foot away so he wouldn’t seem threatening. 

“How about we do a breathing exercise, is that okay?” 

No response. 

Wes continued anyway, trying to keep his voice calm, “Breathe in,” He prompted. Danny inhaled a gulp of air then snorted it back out. He repeated it a few times very rapidly, essentially hyperventilating. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, we don’t want that, okay? Try holding your breath for a few seconds before letting it out.” He demonstrated, carefully counting the seconds as he exhaled. “See?”

Danny didn’t acknowledge him, but his breathing slowed a bit. 

Wes waited a few minutes, breathing in time with Danny, gently reminding him to breathe slowly every once in a while. Danny closed his eyes and took one final deep breath before rising up through the air so his feet were hovering about three inches over the ground. He wiped his face with his sleeve then crossed his arms over his chest like a hug in some sort of effort to calm himself. Wes stood up next to him, his hands hung by his sides, though his muscles twitched with the urge to reach out and comfort Danny.

“Can you talk to me?” He asked quietly. Danny nodded and opened his eyes. 

“Y-” He took another deep breath and sniffled a bit, “I- yes.”

“Are you okay?” Wes asked, balling his fists. He’d seen this kind of thing before with one of his friends on the basketball team. Every time someone touched him he’d flinch, and once when a kid had playfully slapped him in the locker room he’d broken down crying. The coach had been concerned before but when he had the breakdown she’d decided it was time to call someone. Two weeks later, after he’d stopped showing up for practice, he’d heard down the grapevine that his teammate’s Dad was a drunk, and he’d been taken by the police. 

Now that he thought about it, it seemed obvious Danny wouldn’t be mentally stable after living locked up for so long. He wondered what exactly Danny had gone through at Area 51. Considering his reaction to seeing his own blood, it was nothing good. Prickly anger spread through his veins. He had an intense urge to punch someone. But that wouldn’t do much good for Danny now. He pulled himself back to reality, realizing Danny hadn’t moved an inch. 

“I’m gonna be right back, are you gonna be okay on your own for a second?” Wes asked, already moving towards the truck. 

Danny just shrugged. Wes took that as permission, walked back to the truck and dug through his duffel bag for a few seconds and looked for his first aid kit. Then he remembered, he’d left it in Val’s car after bandaging her hand.

“Shit,” He swore under his breath. He kept digging through the bag for something he could use to clean Danny’s finger. He grabbed a wadded up t-shirt. Danny was still floating in the same spot, his arms hanging by his sides.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked again. Danny nodded, his eyes flitted to Wes’ for a second before looking back down at his feet. Wes moved slowly so Danny could track his every move. He grabbed Danny’s hand in his own, cradling it with a gentleness that rivaled a feather. He dabbed at the blood with the t-shirt as carefully as he could, keeping his touch light and staying hyper-aware of Danny’s facial expression. As he moved closer to the cut he narrated what he was doing, making sure to warn him before he pressed the cloth to his wound and held it there to slow the bleeding. As he worked he could feel Danny’s muscles relaxing, and his breathing falling back into a normal, if rather slow, rhythm. Soon enough, the steady stream of blood stopped. Wes gave Danny’s hand a squeeze before releasing it and tossing it behind him onto the driver’s seat. 

“Can I hug you?” Wes asked, the urge to hold him was tugging at his arms. He wasn’t exactly an outgoing person, more likely to stand on the sidelines and watch, but something about Danny activated his protective instincts. Danny didn’t say anything, just sprung forward, wrapped his arms around Wes’ neck and began sobbing again. Wes cradled one hand around Danny’s head and used the other to hold his side, pulling him to his chest. He let his knees bend beneath him and lowered himself to the ground. Danny was practically sitting on his lap, but neither acknowledged the somewhat awkward position. Before he knew it, Wes was crying too. From the stress and loss of the past few days or the contagious sadness of Danny crying he wasn’t sure. Probably both. They sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity. 

“I’m sorry,” Danny sniffled, pulling back and rubbing his sleeve over his face again. 

“For what?” Wes asked, his hand drifted from Danny’s back to his arm, squeezing it lightly in an attempt to keep him grounded. “Danny, you have nothing to be sorry for, we’ll find another way. Don’t worry about it.”

Danny closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitched down like they were being pulled by a string. He took a few more heaving breaths then looked back up at Wes. “I- We need to keep moving.” 

He shook off Wes’ hold and floated back into the passenger seat. He closed the door with a slam that made both of them wince. Wes sat on the curb for another few seconds. He wanted nothing more than to help Danny, but he was at a loss. He felt helpless, but he could sense he wasn’t going to get anything out of him for now. It would probably be better to just let him have space. Wes dusted off his pants and sat down in his truck, avoiding eye contact. 

They drove through backroads, keeping away from highways and towns, looking over their shoulders as they went. It didn’t take long for Wes to get lost in his thoughts. Greif for V led him into thoughts of Val, who he’d lost track of after saving Danny. Oh god, was she still alive? He took his phone from his pocket and tried to turn it on. Shit. No battery. He risked a fleeting glance at Danny. His head was leaned against the window, watching the desert whizzing past. His eyes were glowing dimly, reflecting in the glass. Wes knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help noticing how beautiful Danny’s face looked in the faint headlights of passing cars. He seemed to notice Wes looking at him and quickly shut his eyes. Wes turned back to the road and began speaking, 

“I came to Area 51 with my friends,” He didn’t bother looking to see if Danny was listening. In a way, he didn’t really care. He just needed to talk about what happened, whether someone was paying attention or not. “Val and V. It was gonna be our last trip before they both went off to college. I- I was… I wanted to see them one last time before I... left.”

He paused to recollect himself. “I’m not a good person. I’ve always been selfish and horrible and-” He choked on his words, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the tears, “And a disappointment. I was failing my classes so I decided it would be better to drop out... I couldn’t tell my Dad, ‘cuz he’d always wanted me to be perfect and- I couldn’t be that. So I just-. I decided I would end it all. There was really no reason for me to exist anymore. But, well, things didn’t exactly go as planned…

Before I got in, V-” Tears ran down his face, he violently brushed his cheeks with the palm of his hand, “V didn’t- They shot them. So I- I wanted to go, I wanted to get revenge for them. Then I met you.”

Finally, he turned his head and looked at Danny, who was staring straight ahead with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes glistened with tears. He spoke with a raspy voice, “Fuck, man.” 

Wes gave a watery laugh, “Fuck indeed.” He took a deep, calming breath, “I- I guess what I’m trying to say is, we may not know each other, but we’re in this together, we’ll figure it out.”

Danny giggled alongside him, “Let’s fucking do this.”

“Get some sleep, okay? I think I can keep this up for a few more hours,” He said wearily.

“Thanks, Wes,” He said softly, “I’m sorry for freaking out on you back there.”

Wes shook his head and patted Danny’s shoulder, “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re okay. We can figure this out.”

Neither of them talked for a good long while, picking up an idle conversation until Danny fell asleep, his forehead smushed against the window, his mouth parted slightly, dripping saliva onto his jeans. 

Eventually, Wes began drifting off at the wheel and was forced to pull over into a motel parking lot. He didn’t have enough for a room, so he just reclined his seat and hoped that nobody would notice them.


	5. “Well, that came out wrong.”   “Did it?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yall i dont even know how or why this chapter exists just wow i really wrote all that. awkward fliriting, poly inter-dimensional dumbasses and also walter is a horrible parent. here just. take it.

Wes woke slowly, gaining awareness bit by bit. He wanted to fall back asleep, but something felt… wrong. He begrudgingly sat up and realized he’d been moved in his sleep, he had been laying on his side in the passenger’s seat. Then he noticed. The truck was in motion. He turned around to see Danny behind the wheel, driving surprisingly steady considering. Danny took his eyes off the road for just long enough to offer a tight smile and a “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Wes straightened his chair and yawned, wincing a bit at his horrible morning breath. 

“Mornin’ Dan,” He returned. Danny’s positive demeanor immediately shriveled. 

“Don’t call me that.” He bit out.

Wes quickly made a mental note of that, “Sorry, my bad.”

“It’s fine,” Danny responded, forcing a grin. 

Wes didn’t push it. “So, want some breakfast? Looks like there’s a Denny’s up ahead, I have just enough for some pancakes.” 

He pointed out a sign advertising Denny’s next exit. 

“Uh, pancakes? Those are the ones you grill, right?” Danny asked.

“Kinda? It’s like… cake batter, but in a frying pan I think,” Wes shrugged, “I’m not a chef, but I can tell you that a stack of pancakes after a game is better than sex.”

“As a virgin in both pancakes and sex, I don’t think I can comment.”

Wes snorted, “Well I think I can help with that.”

Danny took his eyes off the road to send Wes an amused glance. He realized the connotation of his words, “Well, that came out wrong.”

“Did it?” Danny winked. 

Wes forced a laugh, trying (and failing) to suppress the deep red blush that was growing on his cheeks. Danny was clearly relishing his uncomfortableness, almost missing the exit from laughing too hard. The road they turned onto wasn’t unlike the one they’d been ambushed on the day before, with a few worn-down shops and restaurants, a gas station with a faded sign still smiling dutifully onto the road, promising cold beer and cheap cigarettes, and no less than two broken-down cars sitting abandoned on the side of the road. Danny pulled into the parking lot, taking up more spaces than what seemed possible for the size of the truck. Wes’ stomach announced their arrival with an obnoxious groan. The dull ache of his empty stomach made the tantalizing scent of fresh pancakes all the more enticing. They sat down in the back of the diner in a booth. Danny sat facing the wall with his hood drawn up to keep his face shielded from their fellow patrons. 

A waiter approached them, he was just below average height, with a baggy misshapen red hat covering his short black hair. He pulled a small crumpled notepad from the pocket of his apron, momentarily flashing the front cover that was covered in scratched out words and doodles. He flashed an electric grin and pushed his black square-frame glasses farther onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Good morning, Arizona! I’m Tucker Foley, aka TF, but you can call me Too Fine, and I’ll be your server today,” His smile never faltered, even when he noticed Danny’s not-exactly-human looks, in fact, he seemed more excited to see Danny than Wes. “What can I do for y’all?”

Wes pushed his hair back on his forehead, only for it to fall right back into place and obstruct his vision further. He threaded his fingers in his bangs and shot ‘Too Fine’ a show-winning smile. 

“Pancakes!” Danny shouted before Wes could start his order, “We want as many goddamned pancakes as we can get for…?” He prompted.

Wes gave Danny a look before turning back to Tucker and emptying his pockets, “Uhh, five bucks?”

Tucker scooped up the crumpled bills, “Two large stacks of pancakes and two coffees?”

“Uh, yeah, thank you, that’d be great,” Wes gave him another appreciative smile. Tucker winked and tucked his notepad into his apron pocket, not bothering to record the order. 

“I’ll be right back,” He breezed into the kitchen like he was walking on air. 

“...That was weird, right?” Wes asked Danny the moment he left hearing distance.

“I don’t think so?” Danny responded, “Though to be fair, I was raised in a lab with no contact with the outside world, so my idea of weird isn’t exactly normal. What’s up?”

“He didn’t ask.”

“What?”

“Not just that, but it was like he didn’t even notice.”

“Notice what, Wes? You’re not helping anyone by being vague.”

“You! He didn’t notice you! Look, no offense, but you’re… not something you see every day. And that he just… didn’t even stare or gasp or- I dunno. I just think it’s odd.”

Danny shrugged, “People are ignorant. He probably assumed it was a costume or that his eyes were playing tricks on him or something.”

“You’re probably right…” Wes said, not entirely convinced, but not wanting to drag out the matter longer than he had to. 

Danny beamed, “I’m always right.”

Wes rolled his eyes, “Sure you are.”

Danny was about to retaliate when Tucker breezed into the diner holding two large stacks of pancakes on one arm and two cups of black coffee clutched in his hand. As he was setting their meal down another girl in a bright preppy Denny’s uniform stalked out of the kitchen. The uniform was the only thing preppy about her, though. Her stark black hair was cut into a chin-length bob. Her eyes held unnatural purple contacts and were decorated with intricate cat-eye eyeliner and dark purple eyeshadow. Her skin was pale as a ghost’s, with her bright purple lipstick adding to the contrast. She was far from intimidating, however. Her face held a playful smirk, but what was most interesting to them was the two towering plates of food she was balancing on her arm. 

“Uh, Ma’am? We didn’t order any extra food,” Wes said politely. The woman didn’t bat an eye, she seemed fixated on Danny.

“Heya, Danny, how’s it going?” She set down the robin’s egg blue plates with a gentle click and stretched her arm across her chest. Danny grunted, pulled the eggs and bacon in front of him and began eating furiously. Her expression was friendly and nostalgic as if seeing an alien boy shoveling egg into his mouth was bringing up happy memories. Wes wasn’t buying it. The situation was setting off all of his warning alarms. Something was off about the two waiters, but he couldn’t quite tell what. Tucker stood behind her, his face holding the same look of love and warmth. They looked like proud parents. A single tear dripped from Tucker’s left eye, he pushed up his glasses and wiped it away. 

“Uh, thank you, that’ll be all for now,” He forced a smile, trying to signal them to go. They just stared, not even acknowledging Wes. Danny didn’t seem to notice, finishing his plate of eggs and bacon and starting on the pancakes. 

“Holy shit, Wes!” He said after the first bite, “This is! Fuck! This is amazing!”

Wes kept one eye on the two strangers while he playfully taunted Danny, with a friendly, “I told you so!”

Danny responded with a scowl then began stuffing pancakes into his mouth at an alarming. At first, Wes has assumed Danny was just really hungry, but now he was beginning to suspect that was just how he ate. 

It was pretty clear to Wes at that point that Tucker and his friend weren’t leaving anytime soon, and Danny obscenely inhaling pancakes just drew more attention to his empty stomach. He gave his two stalkers a tight-lipped grin and pulled his plate towards him. He shoveled eggs onto a pancake and rolled it up into a sort of taco, a habit he’d picked up in the seventh grade when his Dad required he be out of the house before six every morning. He’d spent a lot of rainy mornings sitting in Val’s kitchen. Thinking back on it, he probably spent more time at Val’s house in his youth than his own. After she moved away in the 10th grade he’d been lost, but his Dad had lifted his strict rules at that point, so at least he wasn’t as cold (unless he missed curfew). 

He was so caught up in the feeling of getting warm food into his system that he barely noticed when Danny snatched a strip of bacon from his plate. When he went in for a second one Wes slapped his wrist. The minute his hand made contact with Danny he felt a hard, blunt object nudge into his temple. He turned his head then froze. The woman had a silver and green pistol pointed at his head. Tucker grabbed her arm and made her lower it, but she still looked indescribably angry. Wes was honestly underwhelmed, he’d always expected being confronted by a murderer to be a more high-stakes situation. He began running situations in his head if he made a scene maybe she’d turn her attention onto him and Danny could get a chance to get away, or maybe that’s what she wanted him to do. His eyes flitted to the half-eaten plate of food. Shit. What if they had poisoned their meal? 

Too late for that now, he thought. He figured his best choice was to try and kick the woman, wrestle the weapon out of her hand, and yell for Danny to run. He could make it back to the truck, or at the very least turn invisible and hide until he could find a way to get out. Just as he was about to spring forward, Danny leapt from his seat and positioned his body over Wes’. It was a sweet gesture, but ultimately useless, Danny couldn’t have weighed more than 110 pounds tops. Wes pushed himself up and tried to step in front of Danny, but he extended his arm, barring Wes in. 

To their surprise, the woman started laughing. She pocketed her gun and stuck out her hand. Danny looked at it for a second, before remembering what a handshake was and gripping her hand with a suffocating tightness. 

“Whoa there, Danny, it’s just me,” She beamed, releasing his hand. “How’s it going?”

Wes frowned, his previous unsettling feeling clicking into place. “How do you know his name?”

She looked confused for a second before laughing, “Oh my gods, sorry, I forgot, he just looks so much like our Danny.”

“What do you mean ‘your Danny’?” Danny took a step back, pushing Wes back onto the seat.

“Let’s take this into the back,” Tucker motioned to an older couple who were staring at the exchange in awe.

She nodded sagely, “C’mon you two, I promise I don’t bite.”

Wes looked at the bottom of her skirt where he knew the gun was concealed, “Biting isn’t exactly what I’m worried about.” He mumbled.

The woman scoffed and walked around the corner and into the swinging doors, her heels clicking noisily. Tucker had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“I promise Sam won’t hurt you,” the look he gave Wes was overwhelmingly reassuring, “She’s just a bit… protective of Danny.”

“Why the hell does she care about a guy she’s never even met?” Danny snarled, clearly, Tucker’s smile hadn’t done as much for Danny’s trust as it had for Wes’.

“Please, give us a chance to explain, but not out here,” His voice was so earnest even a deaf man could’ve heard it. 

Danny looked like a cornered animal, outwardly angry, but with fear in his eyes. Wes stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, sensing that Danny was a snake about to strike. 

“Hey, man, I think we can trust them.” He said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. 

Danny didn’t take his eyes off Tucker, who looked more concerned than fearful. 

“Why should we?” He growled, his eyes were glowing brighter now, casting an otherworldly light on the black and white checkered floor. 

“Because we can help you, Danny,” Tucker slowly took a step forward as he spoke, Danny took a step back. This time Wes didn’t fall back to accommodate him, leaving Danny’s back pressed into Wes’ side. 

“Danny, I don’t think they’re lying,” Wes’ face was mere inches from the back of Danny’s head, so he didn’t have to speak any louder than a whisper. “And even if they are, I promise you’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

He squeezed Danny’s shoulder, finally feeling his heart rate go down a bit. Slowly, Danny stepped forward, urged of by Wes gently nudging him from behind and guided by the hand on his shoulder. Once Tucker felt confident that they wouldn’t run, he turned and strutted into the kitchen. Wes didn’t let go of Danny until they were in the kitchen. He let his hand drift down the thick black fabric covering Danny’s arm as his hand dropped. Danny seemed to shrivel without the contact, his confidence momentarily shot. He turned to face Wes and for a fleeting moment, he could see the sheer terror in Danny’s eyes that were glowing like streetlamps. Quickly it faded back into a hardened angry mask. Wes wordlessly stuck out his hand. Danny quirked his head to the side and took it like he was giving a handshake. Wes couldn’t help but smile at his misunderstanding. He let go of Danny’s hand and reached for the one closest to him, intertwining their fingers and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

The woman, Sam, Sat on the counter filing her immaculately painted nails, no doubt breaking many food safety laws. Tucker leaned on the counter next to her, one hand resting on her thigh over a pair of ripped black leggings. 

Wes rubbed his thumb over Danny’s and confronted the two strangers, “So. You said you have something that can help us?”

Tucker nodded, “Sorry for the weird circumstances, CW didn’t warn us beforehand, just gave us an assignment and said you’d come along soon. Of course, to the master of time ‘soon’ is anywhere between two minutes and two years.”

“...What?” Danny asked, less aggressive and more confused at this point. 

“Oh, sorry! I, uh, where to start…” He pondered, stroking his chin. 

Sam rolled her eyes and set her nail file down on the counter, “I’m Sam, this is Tucker, and we’re from another dimension where you-” She pointed at Danny, “Are the King of Ghosts and our-” she gestured between herself and Tucker, “-husband.”

Danny shot Wes a look. Wes shrugged and twirled his finger in a circle next to his ear. If looks could kill, Wes would be six feet under from the look Sam was giving him. 

“I know how it sounds,” Tucker piped up, “But we have proof!”

He pulled his wallet out of a pocket in his apron and flipped it open. He pulled an off-white scrap of paper from a pocket and handed it to Wes. Printed on it was a small photo of himself and another man kissing Sam’s cheeks as she sat smiling between them. He had a spiky metal crown sitting on a nest of untamed white hair, his face was lightly tanned and spotted with freckles. His eyes were closed, but Wes was willing to bet his life that if he opened them they would be a vibrant and glowing green. 

He looked up from the picture and handed it back to Tucker in a daze. He looked lovingly at the photo for a moment before tucking it gently back into the pocket. Nobody spoke for a few beats.

“How the fuck?” Danny murmured. His grip on Wes’ hand had gotten worryingly tight as he’d looked at the photo and the meaning sunk in. 

“I’m with Danny on this one,” Wes agreed.

Tucker chuckled, “This is always my favorite part! Okay!” He clapped his hands, “Well, because Danny’s all caught up in King business and ClockWork- He’s basically the God of time- can’t interfere because of the Observants, he’s been sending us to help keep the multiverse on track!”

Wes raised his hand, “Does that mean there’s a version of you two in this dimension?” 

“Probably? Hey, Sam, do you think we’re running a flower shop in this one?”

She fake gagged at that suggestion, “I swear to the Gods, that was the worst timeline.”

“Aw, c’mon, it was romantic,” he teased.

“Anyway!” She changed the subject, “We’re here to help.”

“Uh. How exactly are you supposed to be helping us here? I mean, the food was nice and all, but unless you can off a few thousand people for us I don’t think there’s much you can do.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, as a sort of nervous tic.

“Ooh! Gas money, we do need gas money!” Wes suggested.

“Did we even get gas? I feel like we’ve been low on gas for a while now,” Danny thought aloud.

Tucker shrugged, “Sounds like the writer forgot about that detail. Don’t worry, we have money, but that’s not why we’re here.”

“So, uh, why are you here?” Wes asked.

Tucker laughed sheepishly, “Well, uh, I wasn’t paying attention when CW gave me the assignment, so…”

Sam sighed exasperatedly, “And, unfortunately, we all have to pay for my husband’s dumbassery.”

Tucker shrugged in a ‘Well, what can you do?’ gesture, “Do you two have a problem that needs fixing? As mature adults, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Wes looked down at Danny, who had begun rubbing the back of his right ear with his free hand.

“Actually, there is something you could do.” 

Danny looked up at him with a puzzled expression, “There is?”

Wes slipped his hand from Danny’s and grabbed his right arm. “They can disable the tracking device!”

Danny tensed, but to his credit, he kept a brave face, “Oh.”

“We can do that,” Tucker beamed and began digging through a cabinet and pulled out a gleaming steak knife. “Hold still, this won’t hurt a bit.”

Danny began backing up slowly, fear written all across his face. Sam was the one to step in. 

“Idiot!” She shouted, grabbing the blade from his hands, “You know damn well how he feels about p- that.”

Tucker’s already large brown eyes widened, “Shit! Danny, I’m so sorry, are you okay? I promise, no one will hurt you, I slipped up, okay? You’re okay.”

Danny’s face unfroze from its unsettlingly calm and glazed-over state. A few deep breaths brought him back to the present, “Y- No problem. I know.”

“Do you think there’s any way you could help us without cutting?” Wes said.

“Oh, of course, dude! Though it’ll probably send out a final ping, kinda like a big old warning sign, so I’ll break that fucker and then you two get your asses out of here fast, okay?”

“We need gas first. I’m sure it’s out by now.” Wes reminded them.

“That’s no problem, here, take a twenty,” Tucker fished a bill out of his pocket. It was smooth and folded into neat squares, blue and not green. When he unfolded it he was met with the noble face of Harriet Tubman. 

“...I don’t think this is legal tender,” Wes said, holding the paper up to the light to see three small Xs shined through. 

He facepalmed, “My bad, Sam, do you have any local money?” 

“Please tell me you haven’t been giving those to customers for change,” She rolled her eyes, though a grin gave away her affection as she retrieved a pristine twenty-dollar bill from her dress pocket. 

Wes pocketed the money, “How much does gas cost in your universe? Because I think I’m gonna need a bit more for a full tank, if you can spare it.”

She handed him another two twenties, and with a no-nonsense tone said, “Don’t buy cigarettes with that. I’m warning you, I’ll know.”

Wes thanked them and after making plans to meet up later (they needed to give Tucker the time to figure out an algorithm that would shut off the tracker), they left for the nearby Snappy Snack Shack, which had a gas station attached, unlike the one in Amity. Wes filled up the gas tank, a process that Danny was surprisingly interested in. 

“So you just handle highly flammable liquid on a daily basis?” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Wes had laughed, “That’s one way to put it.”

“Whoa,” He bent down, closing one eye and squinting the other as if he was trying to see into the crack between the nozzle and the car. 

Wes shrugged, watching the monitor carefully. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“I mean, it’s not, not a big deal, one false step, and BOOM!” He waved his arms to punctuate his point.

He raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think someone tripping would make the pump explode.”

“It totally could,” Danny said whole-heartedly. “I should know, I’ve burnt down two whole different labs.”

Wes sputtered, “What?”

“Yeah, that’s never happened to you?” He seemed genuinely surprised Wes had never accidentally caused something to spontaneously combust.

“Nope. You’re on your own there, bud.” He felt the urge to laugh at the absolute fantasy of the situation.

“I’m sure that’s a thing! I’ve seen more than one person summon fire!”

“Didn’t you say you’ve lived your whole life on a military base?”

“They were 100% human people, Wes,” he glowered, “You don’t have to believe me, I know I’m right.”

Wes paused for a bit, “I don’t doubt that you’ve seen people conjuring up whatever the fuck, but they weren’t 100% human.”

“...Fine.” 

They drove back to the diner bickering about whether humans had the natural ability to command flame. 

“Alright, this shouldn’t hurt a bit, you feeling okay?” Sam asked, holding a small jury-rigged device made of old iPhone parts, a few clock batteries, and a twisted fork up to Danny’s ear, directly over where the device was buried under his skin. 

“Yup,” Danny responded, fidgeting on the tall barstool.

“Alright, I’m gonna count you down.” She began, “One, Two…”

She pulled down hard on the trigger on two, sending a small spark from the tongs of the fork onto Danny’s ear. He jumped off the stool and was across the room in an instant, his small body pressed into the corner of the ceiling. 

“What the hell?! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!” Wes shouted, outraged.

“I didn’t think it would!” Tucker cried, “When we tested it, it just sent out a little pulse, something must’ve gone wrong!”

“I’m having a hard time believing you here,” Wes accused, “Your story isn’t adding up.”

“Hey! He didn’t mean to do anything, it was an accident, you ungrateful-” Sam interjected. Tucker clutched her arm.

“He has all the reason to be angry, calm down Sam,” Tucker tried to comfort her. 

“And this is why I don’t want kids!” Sam hissed, though Wes barely heard her, he was standing on a table, trying to coax Danny down from his defensive perch. 

The tension in the room was thicker than molasses and much less than half as sweet. Wes still managed to keep up an argument with the two adults as he calmed Danny and helped him onto the table next to him. The screaming was brought to an abrupt halt when the loud whining of sirens was heard in the distance. 

“Looks like you succeeded,” Sam muttered under her breath, ducking behind the counter. Tucker squatted down next to her and pressed a button under the granite countertop. The button triggered a trapdoor that was hidden under a large cardboard box of napkins. He helped Sam into the passage, then gestured for Danny and Wes to follow. 

“What have you two gotten yourselves into?” He asked, incredulously, as the stuttering of a helicopter blade added to the cacophony. 

Wes shrugged, not entirely ready to drop the subject. “This is just our average day.”


	6. Great, the God of Time has Dementia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a funny chapter! wow! this happened! wes is fucking traumatized! 
> 
> also, a fun hc for cw because i thought it would make him creepier and i wanted to write body horror lol: cw has 3 different forms and they all have different causes of death because... idk. so like guy one dies of old age so he looks super old, and guy two dies of a broken neck so... anyway just like. ghost things. idk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> squank
> 
> nobody got my heathers reference last chapter

He lowered himself to the floor and looked around. It was a pretty drab room, with nothing but a bed and a mirror for furniture, a door stood open, showing off a bathroom with a single shower stall and a dripping faucet. 

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Tucker said, pressing a button on the wall to close the trapdoor behind them. “We’ll be safe here until they leave.”

“And how long will that take?” Wes asked.

Sam flopped onto the bed, “I’d make yourself comfortable.”

“Great.” He groaned, leaning against the wall and letting his legs go limp under him. Danny sat down next to him, leaning his head on Wes’ shoulder. Wes watched Tucker pace the room like a metronome. “Isn’t there a way to contact your God of Time to make this go a bit faster?”

Tucker stopped pacing, “Oh!”

He pulled a clunky amulet from under his shirt. It was brown and shaped like a clock, attached to a thick purple ribbon. Wes wondered how he hadn’t seen it before, it was much too large to hide under a cloth without being painfully obvious.

“Yo! CW! We finished the job!!” He shouted up at nothing. 

Wes leaned his cheek on Danny’s hair and closed his eyes. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he would wake up and find himself back in his ratty twin bed with a high fever. Maybe his entire life was a dream. Maybe he’d open his eyes and find himself in a new place, with a fresh start. He vowed that if he did wake up to a new life that he’d try his best, that he wouldn’t fuck it up as badly as he did with this one. He would work hard, milk every second, make the best of things. He’d listen to his counselors, he’d be a better son, he-

A booming voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

“Hello, Wesley.” 

Wes opened his eyes to see an old man with a long silky beard floating in the middle of what looked like a hole in reality. His heavily wrinkled skin was turquoise blue, complimenting his purple cloak. His chest had an inlet that held a clock with a swinging pendulum. His eyes were solidly red, a scar marred the skin over his left eye. Instead of legs, he had a long blue tail. All and all a pretty intimidating figure. He towered over Tucker, who seemed astonishingly nonchalant.

“Hi?” Wes answered, never one to be impolite (Ok, that was a bit of a lie, he was often quite rude, but he had enough self-preservation to not piss off a time God).

The old man chuckled, “It’s good to see you again.”

“I don’t think we’ve met…” Great, the lord of time has dementia, he thought to himself.

“I can assure you, I haven’t gone senile quite yet, Mr. Weston.” He teased, smiling.

Wes blushed, “Did I say that out loud?”

The old man tapped his head twice, “Did you?”

“Well. That’s unsettling.” He remarked.

“Sorry for the slipup, but I do watch all of the Wesley Westons in the multiverse, it’s hard to keep track of which ones I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

“...neat.” He shrugged his shoulder lightly to wake Danny. He made a small groaning noise and lulled over, sprawling out on the floor with one arm over his face to block the light. Wes grabbed his leg just below the knee and shook it gently. “Hey, Danny, you’re gonna wanna see this…”

Danny swatted at his hand and mumbled something about tranquilizers. 

“It’s alright, Wesley,” the old man said. Though, he wasn’t an old man anymore. His voice remained the same smooth deep baritone, but his face had become that of a child’s, maybe three years at the oldest. His body was small and grossly disproportionate. His head lulled to the side like an infants, but the way his neck bent was grotesque. It bent at an angle, almost like it someone had wrung the pitiful thing’s neck. Probably out of mercy, Wes thought. The scar still shadowed over his too-wide eyes, the pendulum in his too-small chest ever ticking. A pair of crooked rabbit-like buck teeth completed the look, making his too-large face seem cartoonish and profoundly wrong. “Let him sleep.”

Wes’ tongue felt heavy in his mouth. It was hard to look at the… thing. But at the same, he couldn’t look away. It was the same morbid curiosity that had gotten him into trouble so many times as a kid, but learning from mistakes wasn’t his strong suit. 

“So, did we fix the problem or what?” Tucker asked, he acted as if he hadn’t noticed the man’s (boy’s?) transformation.

The being turned around to face Tucker, the movement made it’s neck bend even further, lulling to the side and rolling around his shoulders like a dog on a chain. “Though your methods were a bit… uncouth, you’ve technically accomplished what I sent you here to do.”

Tucker clenched his fist and pulled his arm down in a ‘hell yeah’ gesture.

“But I think you’ve caused another problem.”

His celebration stopped, “What?”

“I’m giving you an hour to get them to safety, I’d act quickly, the officers have found the button.”

Just as quickly as he’d appeared, the being left. Wes was a bit underwhelmed by the exit, he’d expected a loud boom, a lightning strike, something interesting or something big and bold enough to strike fear into the hearts of anyone who witnessed it. Instead he just… disappeared, one minute he was there and the next he was gone. It occurred to Wes that maybe that was done on purpose, as even after all he’d seen he was left wondering whether he’d hallucinated the whole thing. 

The sound of a creaky hinge startled the empty silence into action. A light shined through the open trapdoor, a few dozen voices began yelling from the upstairs. Tucker slammed his fist onto the button, but it only remained closed for a few seconds, swinging back open with even louder shouting. 

Tucker frantically slapped the button once again, “Shit!”

Sam groaned, lazily getting up from her bed, “I hate it when he does this.” 

The trapdoor swung open again and this time he wasn’t quick enough to stop a singular soldier from sticking his boot down onto the ladder, wedging the latch open. Wes panicked. Somehow Danny was still asleep, though based on all the commotion, he wouldn’t stay out for long. In the meantime, Wes positioned himself in front of Danny, fists raised in what he hoped was a threatening way. The same kind of intoxicating adrenaline he’d felt at the raid filled his body. His body acted on instinct, trying to make himself appear bigger and stronger, all thought that wasn’t fight was shut off. 

Then a gunshot cracked through the air like a whip.

He froze, his muscles tensing in preparation for a final stand. Another shot popped, and this time he saw exactly who was shooting. Sam brandished a small black handgun in one hand and the silver and green gun from earlier in the other. Someone screamed from up above, he could see blood splatter from a soldier’s foot onto the walls. 

“How many fucking guns do you have?” Wes’ mouth moved without his permission.

Sam’s upper lip curled, “Do you really wanna know?”

“What the fuck is happening?” Danny looked scared, but not surprised. “Are you okay?”

“Good, you’re awake!” Tucker greeted him. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Sam was still firing off rounds, warding off the soldiers as best she could, but they were returning fire, she wouldn’t be able to dodge the bullets for long. 

“How?” Wes shouted back, his entire system was buzzing from the utter uselessness he was feeling at the horrible suffocating situation. 

Tucker barely acknowledged Wes, speaking to Danny much too calmly for a man who’s wife was currently in a shoot-out with an all-out swat team. “Do you have enough energy to phase us out of here?” 

Danny pondered the question for a second, then experimentally activated his power. His body was instantly forced back into a corporeal state. “I’m too tired. I don’t think we’d get five feet until I can catch a nap.”

Tucker’s swore under his breath but remained remarkably aloof. “Sam?”

“Hm?” Sam was currently reloading the handgun with one hand, the other was still pointing the other weapon at the trapdoor. 

“We’re gonna need to go with plan B.”

A wicked smile spread across her face like poison ivy, “I have your permission?”

“Please try not to go too far. But, yes. You have my permission.” 

“Plan B?” Wes asked. 

Tucker gave him a pitying look. “Plan A is always to try and make peace, to get away clean, do whatever you can for as little casualties as possible.”

“Plan B is much more fun,” Sam chirped. It was jarring to see her in such a chipper mood. 

“Which is why I get to make the final call. If Sam had her way we would’ve shot our way out of this yesterday.” 

“Wait, what are you saying? You don’t mean…?” Wes felt his stomach drop. It was bad enough to be shooting at people in the first place, but outright murder? 

“Sometimes it’s the right thing to do, Wes,” Danny piped up, he clapped a hand on Wes’ shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not-?! Not a big deal!??” He squawked out, “What is wrong with you people!? This is murder!”

Tucker studied the floor, refusing to make eye contact, “We don’t have a choice, Wes.”

“It’s not like they didn’t bring this on themselves!” Sam added.

“There’s got to be another way!” Wes’ vision was bombarded with thoughts of the soldier’s hypothetical families. Children too young to understand crying out for a parent that would never be coming home. Spouses covering their pain because they knew the risks when they’d signed up. Mothers getting word that their child, the one they’d raised and cared for, was gone. All the lives that would be ruined the instant that gun fired. 

He felt like a child, heard but never listened to. Sam was still shooting and nobody was stopping her. But the worst part was that he didn’t make a move to stop her. Even as she fought her way up the ladder, miraculously dodging bullets and performing perfectly practiced headshots with her green and silver gun that somehow breached the heavily armored masks the soldiers were wearing, he didn’t even try to reason with her. Everything seemed numb. She single-handedly slaughtered over three hundred innocent (ish) men and not a single one of them stepped in. He didn’t stop to try and treat the soldier’s wounds, even though more than one begged for help, for the pain to end. He could’ve saved them, stopped for a minute to tie a makeshift tourniquet around an abused limb. But he kept walking. 

Sam had even managed to ground the helicopters and subdue the drivers of the armored cars. His stomach rolled when it occurred to him that she’d undoubtedly done this before. How many? He wondered, how many sister’s, brother’s, father’s, mother’s, son’s, daughter’s lives had she taken? How many families had she left grieving? How many children had she left abandoned? How many lives had she torn apart with nothing but a devious trigger-happy finger and a taste for blood? 

Tucker and Sam stood waving in the blood-stained parking lot, a field of bodies planted behind them. Wes didn’t look back. 

Danny fell asleep quickly into the car ride, leaving Wes alone with his thoughts. Unfortunately, his thoughts were the last thing he wanted to face. Every time he closed his eyes memories of bloodsoaked corpses flashed before his eyes. First was the desert covered in a layer of bright-eyed kids, still too young to buy a beer without a fake ID. Then V’s last minutes would replay, still fresh and raw in his mind. And now The Massacre, as he’d dubbed it, would haunt the dark recesses of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> benis
> 
> (also review plz)


	7. The one where Danny commits crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter before big plot stuff starts happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna reveal the twist but it'll be so much more satisfying if i dont hhhhh

The next few days were a blur of driving. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, only stopping when absolutely necessary. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, he just followed street signs and prayed to whatever deity might be watching over him to just keep things easy, simple. 

He’d been driving for almost three days straight before Danny convinced him to stop and get some rest, maybe pick up a map and actually plan out where they’d go (“Not that aimlessly driving through deserts and whatnot isn’t fun, but I was not made for sleeping in cars,” He had said, trying to get a smile out of Wes.).

They ended up in Texas, the town of Canyon, with about 2,000 dollars Danny had found in his pocket after The Massacre. Wes couldn’t puzzle out how it had ended up in Danny’s pocket, assuming Sam or Tucker had slipped it to him, but after living on stale McDonalds and sleeping on understuffed seats for a week, Wes was more than grateful for a hot meal and a soft bed. He didn’t question it. 

The small family-run establishment they had chosen to bunk at had a small mouse infestation but was only a little over 50 dollars a night, so the pros outweighed the cons. The room they arrived in was shabby and obviously hadn’t been cleaned in a while. It had two queen size beds adorned with hand-sewn quilts and far too many pillows, all dressed in suspiciously discolored pillowcases. An old box TV sat on a dark-stained dresser that had seen better days. The carpet was rough as sandpaper and designed like a fabric bin had thrown up on it. A single uncleaned window was cut in the red wallpaper. They were both too tired to care. Wes dumped his duffel bag by the door and flung himself onto the bed closest to the drafty window. Danny took the other, performing an impressive belly flop from the popcorn ceiling. 

They slept for a good sixteen hours, only waking when the outside world had faded into a hazy twilight. 

“I’m starving. Pancakes?” Danny suggested.

The only thought pancakes brought to mind was the reaching arms and pleading faces he’d seen at The Massacre. That’s one way to make a guy lose his appetite, he mused internally, I should sell weight-loss books. “I’m thinking we need some vegetables... or fruit, or at least something fruit-flavored.”

“I’ve always wanted to try fruit,” Danny pulled Wes’ hoodie back onto his thin frame. “Count me in.”

“I need a shower,” Wes remarked, catching a whiff of his underarm, “How about takeout?”

Danny shrugged, “Good with me. I trust your judgment.” 

“I think I’ll pick up a phone charger on the way, I should really check in with my Dad,” He grabbed his car kets and compulsively checked his phone, which flashed the familiar dead battery message. 

“What’s your Dad like?” Danny asked, “You never talk about him.”

“He’s, well, he’s not the greatest.” Wes laughed, leading Danny out the door and locking it behind them, “But he stuck around, though it couldn’t have been easy raising me. I told myself he wouldn’t notice if I was gone, but he’s probably going crazy without me...”

“Sounds… nice,” Danny said uncertainly, waving to the receptionist as they left, “Are you planning on heading back after this?”

A bone-chilling rain sprinkled over the parking lot, blotting out the moon and making the short walk to the truck wholly unpleasant. Danny ran at top speed to try and stay dry but didn’t have the keys, so he stood in the rain as Wes sauntered over, taking his sweet time to unlock the door and let him in.

Wes shrugged as he started up the truck, “I don’t think he’ll mind a few more weeks without me.”

“Whatever you say.” Danny put down his hood and wrung some water out of his sleeve.

They stopped at a small Chinese joint and placed an order for three containers of rice, two orders of orange chicken, and about fifty fortune cookies (Danny had made sure to ask for extra-extra, insisting they needed as much guidance on their trip as possible). The wait time was forty-five minutes, so while they waited for the food they sprinted across the street to a 24 hour CVS. 

Wes hunted for a charger that would work for his phone as Danny discovered the wonders of chewing gum and other such novelties. 

“Danny! You can’t eat that until we’ve paid for it,” Wes scolded. Danny had tried to get him to try an m&m, insisting that it was some sort of magic. 

“Oh. Oops.” He emptied his pockets, spilling an absurd amount of wrappers onto the ground. “We don’t have to pay for all that, do we?”

“Why don’t you go take a look at the toothbrushes, and pick up some deodorant, please,” Danny gave him a determined nod, and left, not before picking up another chocolate bar and shamelessly opening it right in front of the cashier. Wes had just found a charger that would work for his phone (Damn his father for buying literally the most obscure Chinese knockoff he could find) when he was being pulled through the aisles by an all too excited Danny.

“Wes, look!” He pointed at a shower curtain with a cheaply printed galaxy design on it. He wondered if the ink would survive water. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I guess?”

Danny was captivated with the pixelated photo. 

“Do you wanna buy that?” Wes asked, a bit confused with Danny’s sudden fascination in bathroom accessories. 

Danny looked like a kid on Christmas, “Fuck yeah I do!”

“Alright, put it in the- You don’t have a basket?” 

“Was I supposed to?”

“I assumed you were getting soap,” Wes rolled his eyes.

“I got distracted,” Danny shrugged, snatching the plastic-wrapped curtain and holding it to his chest, “Sue me.”

Wes turned and walked down the aisle, “Can you go pick up the food and wait in the car? I’ll handle the shopping.”

Danny handed him the wad of bills and with a goodbye in the form of, “Get me some chocolate!” He left. 

Wes returned to the front of the store, got a red plastic basket, and placed the charger and shower curtain at the bottom. He hummed tunelessly as he wandered the aisles, picking up two sticks of deodorant, a bottle of generic brand shampoo, and a razor for the pathetic stubble buildup that had begun growing on his face. He’d never been able to grow a proper beard, and any attempt left him looking like a child with marker on their cheeks. Not a good look if you asked anyone. The cashiers had changed shifts while he was shopping, so he checked out without suspicion, deciding last minute to add two reeces peanut butter cups to his purchase and ducked out with his bag cradled under his shirt.

He cursed himself when he remembered that he’d had the keys on him the entire time, leaving Danny locked out of the truck in the pouring rain. He began spouting apologies the minute it came into view, but Danny wasn’t there. He unlocked the door and stashed the bag in it before heading back into the Chinese restaurant. He wasn’t there either. After a quick conversation with the cashier, he knew Danny had picked up the food. 

“Fuck,” He swore, “Fuck me, fuck fuck fuck!”

His mind raced, and a deep pang of remorse hit him with the force of a bullet train. He shouldn’t have sent Danny off on his own, not looking like that. He was an easy target. Not to mention that it was insanely likely they were both wanted across the country. Maybe that’s why the cashier had looked the other way when Danny had eaten over half their candy stock. Maybe they hadn’t changed shifts and the first one had decided to duck into the back room and call someone. And it was all his fault. If he’d just given him the car keys or waited a few damn minutes so they could walk together this wouldn’t have happened. God, he was so worthless, he couldn’t save anyone. Not V, not the soldiers, not Danny. Even his own mother didn’t stay with him. Maybe she could sense it coming. Maybe she knew that everyone that dared get close to him fell apart. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying. 

“Danny!” He called out, “Danny, where are you?” 

He began screaming, running up and down the streets until his throat was raw. He had no choice but to return to the motel room. The cold had sunk into his body, so much he couldn’t feel anything anymore. His fingers had turned purple, his jaw was clattering. His clothes were waterlogged and his hair was a mess. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him anyway. 

He made it back to the motel after quite a demonstration of horrible driving. The night receptionist was a cheery young woman, who greeted him as he came in the door. He ignored her, flashing his key and stalking down the hallway. 

The bare overhead lightbulb flickered out before he reached the door, making the sliver of light coming from under the door more dramatic. He hesitated. He was almost certain he’d left the lights off when he left. After positioning his car keys between his knuckles like claws he unlocked the door as quietly as possible. To his dismay, the hinges of the door creaked loudly as it swung open, no doubt alerting any intruder of his presence. 

“I’m armed!” He called, “Seriously, leave. You don’t wanna fuck with me.”

As much as he willed that to be true he knew that if it came down to it he wouldn’t be putting up much of a fight. He’d already been a bit underweight, and fasting for three days made his body feel shaky and frail. 

“If you insist,” A familiar voice sighed, “But I’m taking your rice.”

“Danny?!” Wes cried out, slamming the door behind him and bolting into the room. “Oh thank god! I- Jesus fuck, man you scared me!”

“Sorry,” He didn’t sound very sorry, “that I didn’t want to stand out in the rain until you came back.”

“Well, you could’ve at least told me! I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!” He scoffed, pulling his sopping wet shirt off his back. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t eat my food.”

“Have a little faith, Wes, I wouldn’t eat cold chicken.” 

Wes tossed his shirt at Danny in retaliation. He walked into the bathroom, flipping Danny the bird over his shoulder and pushing the door closed with his foot. 

The warm water did a lot for his mood, even though it shut off after about six minutes. He toweled off and tried to salvage the contents of his pockets. The money was waterlogged, he pulled it apart gently and laid each bill to dry out. A few receipts and handwritten notes past saving went into the trash. He’d had the good sense to toss his phone in the CVS bag, so it was a little damp but otherwise fine. 

He left the bathroom wrapped in a towel he suspected hadn’t always been grey and changed into his last pair of jeans (After making Danny face the wall, of course). 

He started in on his chicken like a starving man, which in a way he was. He had to remind himself not to eat too fast, but it was hard. After the second day without food, his mind blocked out the hunger pangs, leaving him feeling numb and empty. The minute he unpackaged the meal all of it came back to him. He ate with the enthusiasm of a dog given a T-bone. Even Danny seemed shocked at how violently he consumed his dinner. 

“Wh?” Wes asked through a mouthful of rice.

“You look stupid.”

“Th'mks” He answered, turning back to his dinner.

Danny reached into the soggy paper bag the food had come in and pulled out a handful of fortune cookies. He fumbled with the wrapper for a few moments before ripping it open with his teeth. He popped the entire cookie in his mouth and crunched down on it. 

“When do I learn the fortune?” He asked, showing off chewed up cookie and a saliva-coated strip of paper.

Wes held up a finger as he chewed then spoke, “That’s not how it works, dumbass.”

“Well, then how does it work, oh master of cookies?” 

“It works when you don’t eat the fucking fortune.” He retorted.

Danny stuck his hand in his mouth and searched around for a second, then pulled out the ripped fortune from the gooey mess. “Oh.”

He squinted at the paper, “I think this one’s a dud. Here, you try.”

He shoved the paper at Wes’ face. Wes dodged, putting one arm up to protect his chicken. “Do not touch me with that thing, I swear to god.”

“Fine. Be like that.” He scoffed, wiping his hand off on his quilt, leaving behind a disgusting mess and a chewed up fortune. 

Wes set down his dinner and reached into the bag for a cookie, “Here,” He cracked it open and plucked the paper from the shell, “A feather in the hand is better than a bird in the air.”

“...So we need to find a feather?” 

“I think it means you should be happy with what you’ve got,” Wes explained.

“Then why didn’t they just say that?”

He shrugged, “Maybe he was compensating for something?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Danny said in a tone that made him think he didn’t know what Wes’ words had implied. He unwrapped another cookie and removed the fortune, reading it aloud, “Adventure can be real happiness.”

“Bullshit.” Wes scoffed, popping another piece of chicken in his mouth, “I’ve been on an adventure for the past two weeks and it’s been horrible.”

Danny nodded sagely, “I’m beginning to think these cookies aren’t real fortunes. I mean, it’s not even trying to tell the future! Shouldn’t it be warning us of danger ahead or something?”

“Please, no more danger,” Wes said, looking to the heavens, “That was NOT an invitation for more danger!”

Danny shook his head and picked up another cookie, not even bothering to read the fortune before tossing it to the side. He did this with a few more of the wafers until he had a pile of paper on his right and a pile of cookie on his left. Wes reached out and grabbed a handful of cookie halves.

“‘May n’t t’ll th’ ‘uture ‘ut th’re ‘retty g’d,” he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. Danny gave him an annoyed (and rather hypocritical) glance and turned back to his little routine, cracking a cookie in half and separating the pieces with no sense of thought. Wes watched him as he finished his meal. He still felt hungry, but he knew better than to try eating more, especially after so long with no food. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, neatly packing all his trash into the empty container. 

“Bored.” Danny gave a simple one-word answer. 

“...m’kay.” Wes shook his head, deciding to leave Danny to his own devices for a while. 

He dumped the contents of the CVS bag on his bed and began collecting wrappers and trash from around the room. His Dad had always insisted on a strict chore regiment, and it had stuck with him. After the room was clean and the bag secured Wes went about finding a working outlet. It took thirty minutes, a bit of furniture arranging, and more than a little cursing to find the one outlet in the room that actually connected to something. He felt much better now that his phone was plugged in, even if he wasn’t remotely ready to face his Dad again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, see ya next time! (V's tumblr's @its-towarzysz (main)/ @we-all-horny-here (sanders sides sideblog)/ @cockworktower (dp sideblog)) (Other friend's tungle: @zoidetrap)


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